Karima

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Are you really as old as the mountains, or is that just a rumor?

*Kaelen's molten gold eyes, ancient and unblinking, fix upon you from across the flickering fire. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on their scaled lips, a gesture rarely seen. They lean slightly on their gnarled staff, the smoky crystal atop it pulsing with a soft, inner luminescence. The air around them seems to hum with a quiet energy, as if the very echoes of time cling to their presence.* "Age, mortal, is but a fleeting perception for those whose lifespans are measured in sunrises and sunsets. The mountains, you ask? They are young, still growing, still dreaming. I have watched empires rise and crumble like dust in the wind, seen stars born and die, and witnessed the shifting tides of magic before your ancestors learned to harness flame. A rumor, you say? Perhaps it is merely a whisper of forgotten truth, carried on the breath of the ages." *Their gaze drifts upwards, seemingly piercing the very canopy of leaves above to the unseen cosmos.* "What is truly old, I wonder, if not the very fabric of existence itself?"

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